


uprooting and replanting

by badAquatic, orphan_account



Series: Trailerstuck [37]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Carnival, Diary/Journal, Domestic, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, what is becs gender again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:57:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirth Gras finally comes to New Jack. Karkat, Dave, and Jade work things out between them. </p>
<p>Takes place immediately after "things left out (part two)".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. planning committee

**== >Karkat: Enjoy your snuggle pile**

You would be enjoying it if Dirk hadn’t told all three of you to get out of bed. You fell asleep at seven just before dusk, and now its early evening. It still hot and when you get off the bed, your clothes are rumpled and sweaty. Jade is growling, dreadlocks dangling in front of her face. If you walked into a dark room with an unhappy Jade just laying there growling, you’d assume she was a werewolf. You’re herded into the living room, half awake, where Jake is standing near the TV with a black eye.

“What happened to you?” Dave asks.

“Did you try to hunt down that giant alpha Tinkerbull that keeps knocking over people’s trash?” Jade asks.

“No.” Jake sighs, rubbing the bruised eye, “While you three were relaxing we had a visit from Jade’s grandfather who was less than pleased to have her hanging out at the home of a drug addict and a troll. I told him that you were an adult and perfectly capable of handling your own issues and...he didn’t agree with me.”

“You should have let me shoot him.” Dirk grumbles. He’s searching in the TV stand drawers with the remote in the other hand.

“I’m not letting you shoot my father.” Jake says. “He’s old and he’s an conservative arsehole but I don’t want him dead.”

“Your… _father_?” you ask.

Jade sighs, “Jake is my father. He just found out about it.”

“We _all_ just found out about it.” Dirk grabs a digital stylus from the drawer. You notice he’s not looking at Jake, so he must be irritated whether its about Dave and Jade’s accident or his husband not telling him he had a child. You hope they don’t start fighting. There’s nothing worse than being in someone’s house and there’s an argument you have nothing to do with.

If Dave’s noticed tension, he’s ignoring it. He plops down on the couch and asks, “What’s going on?”

Jake is holding the remote for the TV and switches it from the Wayback Channel to a black screen with the Barr Lumodigital logo in the top left corner followed by _Lumodigital Smartboard._

Dirk writes on the screen _Future Plans_ and looks at the three of you, “Before _any_ of you make a choice about what’s going to happen next, we need to talk about how you’re going to live here. If we add more people, the rent goes up. We need to look at our combined incomes on top of space since Jade is going to have a kid.”

“Maybe.” Jade adds.

“Most likely.” Jake says, “Now, how much do each of you earn?”

“I’m going to start earning 20 an hour with health benefits.” you say.

“10 boons an hour.” Dave says.

“40 boons an hour.” Jade says.

Dave looks at her. “Why do _you_ earn so much more money than the both of us?”

“Because neither of you can do my job.” Jade says, “You have to have an advanced math, science, and mechanical skills. I might wash and detail cars but I can also take apart the engine and see why it’s not working. I’m part of the union and I’m up for a management position if I keep up the good work.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me. _You’re_ the bread winner in this relationship.” you sigh.

“Not for long. Most jobs in New Jack City don’t give paid maternity leave.” Dirk writes the listing on incomes on the TV screen. “Let’s see, Dave earns 480B a week, Karkat earns 800B a week, and Jade earns 1600B a week. Combined with Jake and my 1700B, that brings us to a weekly total of 4580. For a monthly total that’s about 137,400B.”  

“That’s above most of the people in the trailer park.” you say.

“It gets significantly less when you factor in health care, food, fuel, two kids, and educational costs.” Jade says.

“So let’s say 1050B for food, 500B for fuel, 225B for medical, 200B for clothing, 125B for entertainment and 28B for school fees.” Dirk says. “That brings us to a total of…2128B.”

“So that cuts the weekly paycheck in half.” Dave sighs, “Not including rent, electricity, or water.”

“If we get a double-trailers it’ll be 1500B a month instead of the usual 800B.” Jake says.

“Maybe we separate monthly and weekly costs to make calculating easier?” you say, “Food is something we need weekly. Medical insurance, car insurance, clothing, rent, and the bills are paid monthly. Health should also factor in medication, emergency visits, and leaving work to see the doctor. I want half of my pay check going to my other kid with Vriska weekly.”

“That barely leaves you with any money.” Jade says.

You crunch more numbers, erasing and rearranging money. After a half hour, Dirk comes to a conclusion. “We should be okay as long as no one gets laid off or drastically sick.”

“I can look for a second job so we have a bugger when Jade has to go on maternity leave.” Dave says. “Since she’s a high earner, we need her check.”

“Your kid could always get state aid since you’re human.” you say, “What are we going to do about space?”

“I don’t have much.” Jade says, “I just have my hydroponic vegetable garden, my guns, my computers, my machinery, and my bed.”

“How many guns and computers do you have?” you ask.

“At least five for each thing.” Jade says, like that’s not a big deal.

“We already have a spare room for guns, swords, and equipment.” Jake says, “We could put your things in there and the garden too.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Jade asks. “Dave’s room is kinda small for three people. Why not turn the storage room into a bedroom and then move equipment into the new trailer?”

“I’d have to move all my stuff just down the hall.” Dave says, “Can’t we just move into the new trailer if we have to relocate?”

“The new trailer will be on _top_ of this one,” Jade says, “which means that I’ll have to climb rickety stairs to go to sleep even when I’m heavily pregnant.”

“It’s a bad for the kid too.” you say, “A kit on Two Boot Drive slipped playing on the stairs and cracked his head open.”

“Like his parents noticed; the families there have like ten kids.” Dave snorts. “The storage room doesn’t have any windows and our renter’s agreement won’t let us install any.”

“What if Dirk and I moved upstairs?” Jake suggests. “You three could have our room which is a bit less crowded. Dave’s old room could have the baby in it.”

“My kid should stay upstairs with you two then.” you say, “Grubs and babies rarely mix.”

“Are we having an operational kitchen upstairs?” Dave asks.

“I don’t think so for now.” Dirk says.

“How big is the new trailer going to be?” Jade asks.

“Roughly half the size of this one.” Dirk says.

Dave glances at you. “…what if Karkat has another accident?”

“Way to have faith in me, Strider.”  You grumble.

“Karkat, when you have your heat cycles, you get really nuts. Last time you knocked up two trolls. What if you knock up more the next time? Or you get pregnant?” Dave asks.

“I’m not going to get pregnant!”

“Don’t jinx yourself like that.” Jade sighs.

“Maybe we should make sure it’s a trailer the same size as this one in case of another pregnancy.” Jake says.

“It’s not going to happen.” you huff. “When is Jade moving in?”

“Tomorrow’s Friday, so I should be fine as soon as I get off of work. I can start moving things out of the storage room and set up a light and place to put the hydroponic garden. Ooh! And I’ll have to find a place to put my worms.”

“Worms…?” you ask.

“Yes! I use the worms for composting fertilizer. A hydroponics garden needs liquid fertilizer.” Jade says, smiling. “The way I do it is that when the plants are young, I grow them in a nutrient reservoir—”

“Jade, I love you and all but I really don’t care about plants.” Dave says.

“Its important to know how to grow your own food, Dave!” Jade huffs, “Calorie companies don’t care about food quality or control. All they care about is turning over a profit.”

“Yeah, we all known calorie companies are shitty.” you say, “So we’re rearranging tomorrow?”

“Let’s start rearranging while we’re up.” Dave sighs, “I’m going into work early tomorrow to suck up to the manager since I called in today. Then I start looking for another job.”

“You could always be a carnie.” you say, smirking.

Dave stands. “Oh, that’s hilarious. Come on, funnyman, you’re helping me move shit.”

“Why do I have to help?”

“Because the pregnant one shouldn’t be doing heavy lifting.”

“There’s no confirmation I’m pregnant, and I can lift more than Karkat _ever_ could.” Jade says.

“She’s right about the second thing.” Jake adds.

Now its become a matter of trollian pride. You stand, “I can lift as much as Harley.”

“Karkat, you have the build of a marshmallow, or maybe a walrus.” Dirk says.

“What about a candy walrus marshmallow?” Dirk suggests.

“I’ll do fine!”

You forget that you’re still aching from helping Vriska move. After carrying a box of swords, a serious back spasm, and chugging down some aspirin, you’re relegated to carrying small boxes of ammo. Until the second mobilehive arrives on either Thursday or Friday, the living room will be crowded with storage stuff. Dave is moving things in his room while Dirk and Jake are still planning. You walk back to the storage room and see Jade has pried open one of the boxes with a huge grin.

“What are you geeking out about, Harley?” you ask.

“Check it out! Jade holds up yet another ammo box. “Jake’s got 00 buckshot and 7.62x51mm NATO and _oh_ _my_ _gosh_.” She pries open another box, “It’s a FN FAL! I always wanted one of these!”

You stare at her. “Okay.”

“Karkat, its an _FN FAL!_ And _oooh_! There’s a M14 rifle too!” She says, like that moonspeak is supposed to mean something. “The M14 is a selective fire automatic sniping rifle and the FN FAL is a selective fire battle rifle.”

You stare at her. “Uh.”

“You have to be eighteen and have a special license to operate them both because they’re so dangerous!” Jade says, exasperated. “I’m saving up to get one.”

“Wow.” You say, “You really are Jake’s daughter aren’t you?”

The wind goes out of her sails when you say that. She closes the box. “Yeah…I guess I am.” She looks at you, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Dave and me being together?”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?” you ask.

“Well, we’d be kissing in front of you and stuff. Isn’t that weird?”

“Maybe if I was human, but I think Strider’s right about us being pitch and he’s always had a crush on you since he was an annoying little hipster.”

Jade blushes. “I never thought anyone would like me.”

“Why?”

“Most guys are intimidated by the fact I could shoot them in the head before they grab my ass, or break their legs. And then there’s this.” She points to her facial birthmark. “People say it looks like the symbol of the Devilbeast and a mutation. It’s the reason my grandfather had me baptized.”

“Maybe you should look at it this way: the people who find those little things about you unattractive, are the sort of people you wouldn’t want to deal with anyways. I don’t see how strength is a bad thing.”

“Aren’t trolls a matriarchy anyways?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Matriarchy. Basically, the women are the more powerful gender. You had nothing but queens, duchesses, countesses, but no men.”

“I don’t know.” you admit, “Trolls don’t really have the same sense of gender humans do. You base your genders on who reproduces and we base ours on clothing or preference. I heard Old Alternian had at least 10 types of gender. I don’t think women were ever more important than men; I think they’re just naturally bossy and loud.” You smile, “But don’t let them know I said that.”

Jade smiles, “I think if they knew, Feferi would put you in a headlock again like she did in fifth grade.”

“Who’d’ve thought Feferi would end up the _tallest_ female. She’s going to be _huge_ after her molt if Gamzee is her brother.”

Jade picks up a box of swords and ammo. “Come on. We still have moving to do.”

“Are you sure you should be moving so many pointy and shootable objects?”

“I’ve been lugging ‘shootable objects’ since I was five. This is nothing.” Jade says.

The rest of the night is spent moving. You have a late dinner of meat pizza despite Dave saying Jade should eat healthier. With Jade and Jake side by side, you see the similarity. They’re both meat eating, tall as fuck Young British exiles with the same nose and jawline. Dave’s bed is still crowded that night and you sleep on the edge, clinging to Dave. If you get kicked off, you’re taking him with you.

That Friday morning, Jade gets up early and sneaks back to her mobilehive to get ready for work. You take a shower and navigate around the living room junk to the couch. Jake is cooking breakfast. Dave is getting ready for work and you’re typing the next chapter of your story while watching the early morning news.

Wednesday night a sapphireblood had been killed on their doorstep at the edge of the Squalor, shot point-blank in the chest after opening the door. There were no suspects so far. This morning, another purpleblood body had been found in the East End Motels parking lot; the victim had been tossed out their hotel after being shot in the chest and stomach. One of the many (supposedly empty) warehouses in Dockside had been consumed by fire, spewing a noxious smoke.

“How long do you think this is going to last?” You ask Dirk, muting the news while it goes into grisly details about the East End Motels body.

“What?” Dirk asks.

“This gang war that nobody wants to talk about.” you say, “These are all gang killings. The only mention it at the start of the news because the rest of it is going to be about how great Mirth Gras is to sate the tourism board.”

Dirk rubs his chin thoughtfully, “The UBK and Capricorn Brotherhood have always had a tense relationship. The UBK are the children of conservative bluebloods who still believed in the old hemocaste. When those children grew up, they saw the purplebloods they were supposed to respect were just a bunch of idiots coasting on bloodlines. So the UBK formed. Something must have set off this war though; you know about sparks and dry hay.”

“You know a lot about gangs.” You never asked Dirk about his past because he seemed like the kind of person to stay tight-lipped about it, unlike Jake.

“If you live in this city, you keep your ear to the ground.” Dirk says, “You have to know who’s fighting who and why. The UBK is native to New Jack City. They’re smaller than the Brotherhood but they have a local advantage. They don’t care who gets in the crossfire. They’ll draft other gangs to help them, like the Hellcats and the Tex-Mex.”

“I thought the Tex-Mex were anti-troll?”

“They are, but they’re in the gun running business. They have no issue supplying trolls with enough weaponry to wipe each other out. Boons are boons as much as they’re concerned.” Dirk takes out his iHusk, “Shouldn’t you be checking in with one of your two baby mama’s?”

You wondered if he felt that you were going to ask what he did in the past. You get on Trollian while you write.

 

\--carcinoGeneticist[CG] began trolling gallowsCalibrator[GC]! --

 

CG: HEY, HOW ARE YOU FEELING?

GC: S1CK TO MY STOM4CH

GC: 1 4LMOST PUK3D 1N TH3 R3CUP3R4COON K4NKR1 W4NT3D TO ST4Y HOM3 4ND T4K3 C4R3 OF M3 BUT 1 TOLD H1M TO GO TO WORK

GC: H3S B33N B4DLY STR3SS3D NO TH4NKS TO YOU >:[

CG: I ALREADY SAID I WAS SORRY. SO YOU’RE HOME ALL ALONE?

GC: 3V3RYON3’S 4T WORK 4ND 1’M W41T1NG FOR 4 C4LLB4CK FROM MY 1NT3RV13W

CG: DO YOU WANT ME TO COME OVER? I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING.

GC: W1LL YOU GO BY TH3 STOR3 TOO?

CG: WHAT DO YOU NEED?

GC: C4NDY! PR3F3R4BL3 R3D >:]

CG: THAT’S NOT REALLY DESCRIPTIVE OR HELPFUL, REZZLES.

GC: WH4T

GC: WH4T 1S W1TH TH4T N1CKN4M3 DON’T C4LL M3 TH4T

CG: YOU CALLED ME KARKLES FOR YEARS AND IT WAS JUST AS STUPID!

GC: K4RKL3S 1S CUT3 R3ZZL3S 1S JUST W31RD YOU SHOULD N3V3R N4M3 4NYTH1NG 3V3R

GC: 1 B3T YOU P1CK3D STUP1D N4M3S FOR YOUR OFFSPR1NG

CG: THEY’RE NOT STUPID!

GC: WH4T 4R3 TH3Y TH3N

CG: KINCHI AND KARKETTE.

GC: K4RK3TT3 H4S TOO M4NY L3TT3RS 4ND K1NCH1 SOUNDS L1K3 TH4T SP1CY C4BB4G3 TH4T M4K3S MY NOS3 HURT

CG: THEY’RE CUTE NAMES! AND WHO CARES ABOUT LETTERS?

GC: 1 DO! 1 DON’T W4NT P3OPL3 TO TH1NK MY OFFSPR1NG 1S HUM4N

CG: THEY’RE NOT THAT TERRIBLE! I COULD HAVE BEEN LAZY LIKE MOST TROLLS AND NAMED MY KIDS AFTER RANDOM STUFF. THERE’S LIKE TWENTY TROLLS IN OUR CLASS NAMED AFTER CARS AND FOOD.

GC: ‘MU3SL1’ 4ND ‘K3B4BS’ 4R3 4LT3RN14N N4M3S TH4T’S JUST 4NOTH3R ON3 OF THOS3 W31RD CO1NC1D3NC3S

CG: SO THEY SAY, BUT SOMETHING TELLS ME THAT ‘TOMATO’, ‘PAPAYA’, ‘CHURRO’, ‘FAJITA’, AND ‘TURNIP’ DON’T FALL INTO THAT CATEGORY. SAME WITH ‘TUNDRA’, ‘MAXIMA’, ‘ACCORD’, AND ‘SONATA’.

GC: 1 L1K3 TH3 N4M3S SON4T4 4ND TOM4TO FOR TH3 R3SP3CT1V3 T34LBLOOD MUT4NTBLOOD GRUBS 1’M H4V1NG >:]

CG: PLEASE DO NOT NAME OUR GRUB AFTER A CAR, A PERFUME, A CLOTHING BRAND, OR A FOOD.

GC: ONLY ON3 OF TH3M 1S YOURS 4ND SHOULDN’T YOU B3 4T TH3 STOR3 NOW

CG: YEAH, I’M GOING.

 

\--carcinoGeneticist[CG] ceased trolling gallowsCalibrator[GC]!--

 

You go to Dairy Mart and buy Terezi two bags of M&M’s and yourself Watermelon Twizzlers. When you get to the mobilehive, Terezi answers the door, wearing a baggy shirt and Digispawn boxers.

You smirk. “I see we’re dressed for Super-Walmart.”

“I’ll still be the best dressed person there if I went.” Terezi walks back to the couch, slowly sitting. Her waistline is starting to bulge, “I’ve been throwing up more than Eridan according to Sollux...”

“Eridan only has one kid. You have two.” You hand her the M&M’s and sit next to her. The coffee table is scattered with dated composition notebooks, smeared with red ink; Kankri’s husktop next to it, “What’s Kankri up to?”

“This you mean?” Terezi gestures to the notebooks. “Well, I had to keep Kankri from focusing on drinking so we watched TV. There was a news report about Mirth Gras since its starting Wednesday. I don’t know what happened but a spark went off in him. He went into the storage room and pulled out all these old journals and said he had to write. I think you should read it. It might…shed some light on things.”

You doubt it but you turn on the husktop. OpenOffice Word is still open and you look at the document titled ‘Youth Journal: 6.14.2105’. The latter numbers you assume are dates. You scroll to the top of the document, expecting it be wordy like anything Kankri has written.

 

_ Carnival of the Innocent _

_Kankri Vantas_

_June 14 th, 2105. The parade continued its journey through the street, the mirthful revelers clothed in purple swarmed around the golden krewes. Each krewes was different. One was the God of Mirth and Rage and he threw plastic coins and Faygo flavored candies. One was of the Angel of Double Death and he threw coupons for free slices of mirth cake at the stalls and carried the flambeau. The most lavish krewes was that of the Consort of Causality, also known as the Gold Bitch. She always threw colorful beads and doubloons. I picked a coupon off the ground and went to a stall to have my first taste of Mirthful Cake. I was a boy on a mission to have fun. My father had always forbidden going to Mirth Gras and that night I learned why. _

 

It gets considerably wordy after that but it makes the details more vivid. A young Kankri unused to the crowd of people in the streets, the spicy and fried scents in the air. You feel dizzy as Kankri describes his first taste of alcohol from an unguarded drink at a bar and how a fun time quickly became a blurred sensory nightmare. You read until you get to the second page where a fifteen year old Kankri is coerced by an older troll into going to a motel to have sex. In the morning he recognizes the troll as his gym teacher.

You minimize the word document just as a reflex. “Did you…read this? I mean. I know you’re blind and all but…”

“I’m not blind; not like a human. I can still identify letters and words.” Terezi says, “And yes, I read that along with the others.” She grabs a composition book. “These are all the diaries he kept during that time and yes, it got worse.” She must smell your discomfort. She leafs through a composition book, “Did you know Kankri has a tattoo?”

“A tattoo?” You can’t recall the last time you saw Kankri naked. He was always chaste around you, paranoid about nudity. “No. He seemed too squeamish to get tattooed.”

“I smelled and tasted the ink on his skin. Its in a private place, along the inner thigh.” Well, that’s more information that you ever wanted to know about Kankri and Terezi’s sex life. She adds, “It was a capricorn, the symbol of the old purpleblood hemocaste. Tattoos are language in where they’re placed, Karkat. Tattoos on the arms mean ‘I am dangerous’. Tattoos in intimate places—the stomach, the thighs, the lower back—mean ‘I belong to’.”

You piece together what she’s saying, “Kankri and the Brotherhood…have history, don’t they?”

“He’s been more skittish lately and he won’t tell me why, but I suspect it has something to do with Kurloz’s ‘work’. The man has been stinking of gunpowder and blood since the gang war began.”

You swallow but your mouth is suddenly dry. “I hope Vriska’s okay in the Squalor…”

“It should be alright. No single gang owns the Squalor. It has too many immigrants and none of them are going to show loyalty to local gangs. The foreign gangs are neutral in the war.” She tilts her head, “You flush her don’t you?” 

“Flush her?” You think about Vriska’s toothy smile, her eightfold eye that only Serket ceruleanbloods had; that one horn that looked like a crab claw so when you were a kit you called her ‘crabby vrissy’. “I don’t know. I can’t even tell the difference between pitch and flush. She’s a great troll and deserves someone who isn’t giving mixed signals.”

“Karkat…” Terezi sighs, “Stop second guessing everything and going over it like its a wartime strategy. If you flush her, tell her. You already have a kid together.”

“Maybe.” You doubt you’ll tell her though, “I got a job by the way.” You really don’t want to talk about your flush quadrant that’s always in a flux. “And Jade is moving in with us.”

“You mean the maid job.” She doesn’t sound happy about that.

“Its just a cleaning service job and the interview was normal. I qualified and I’ll be getting paid more than minimum so I can pull my weight.”

“I think you should still be careful. Kankri knows about the jobs that are fronts. Why not ask him about this one?”

“I’m not talking to Kankri.”

“Karkat.”

“ _No_.” you growl, “I’m still irritated about this whole ‘your grandfather was your father all along’ bullshit and until I’m less… _angry_ …about it, I need my fucking space, okay?”

Terezi sighs. “Alright. He’s still your fa… _mother.”_

Your response is a groan. Kankri has never been a mother or father to you. You stay with Terezi though and Kankri comes home late. He looks dazed, like he’s been awake for two days straight.

“T…Traffic.” he stammers. “Someone planted a…a car bomb not too far from the library…” He falls silent, walks to the bathroom. “I need a shower. Then. I’m going to my AA meeting.”

It doesn’t seem like Kankri’s walking, more like he’s drifting around. You mutter a goodbye to Terezi and leave the mobilehive before she can rope you into talking to him. You enter the Strider mobilehive but hear chaos from the backdoor. At the backdoor, you see Jade and her grandfather arguing in the Harley backyard. Dave is nonchalantly trying to walk around them, pretending he’s just moving boxes in and out. Dave re-enters the Strider mobilehive, putting down a box.

“What’s going on over there?” you ask.

Dave shrugs. “Just the old man not accepting that Jade doesn’t want to live with him, doesn’t want his support anymore, doesn’t care that I’m a ‘mutant’, and doesn’t think Jake is that bad of a guy.”

“I see he’s taking it well...” you mutter.

There’s whimpering coming from the corner of the room and Dave sighs, moving a pile of boxes to reveal Jade’s mutt. “By the way, this is ours now. Karkat, this is Bec.”

It’s your typical mutt: patchy green and white fur, sharp spines growing out of its haunches, eyeless face, venomous drool, and the flicker of static charge building up in the fur. Its left foreleg and back leg have been replaced with hastily built cybernetics. You stare at the animal as it pants, green tongue flopping around. “What is it doing here?”

“She’s Jade’s dog, and they follow their masters.”

“Are you sure that’s a she?”

“Jade called it a ‘she’.”

“Yeah but. Uh. It has a…” You pause, “I mean, don’t boy dogs typically not have protruding parts…?”

Jade walks into the room, holding two plastic trays. “Ugh. He’s so stubborn.”

“Jade, is Bec a boy or a girl?” Dave asks.

“Of course Bec’s a girl! Can’t you tell from the size of her penis?” Jade says.

You look at Dave, then look at Bec, “That doesn’t sound right.”

Jade sighs. “The standard New Earth canine females are bigger in size and have bigger penises than the males, or rather it’s an elongated clitoris. New Earth dogs are different from Old Earth dogs. A lot of the dog breeds they had died when Old Earth was destroyed and the space travel changed them. Then they started breeding with lusii and you get Bec.” She puts down the trays and pats the dog on the head. “Awww, who’s a good girl? Yes, you are! Mama loves you so much!”

“I hope you give this much love to our kid.” Dave says.

“There’s no confirmation I’m pregnant and Bec is already my kid. I raised her from a puppy.” Jade picks up the trays she was carrying, “Now where do I put these?”

“ _More_ ammo?” you sigh.

“Maggots and earthworms.” Jade says casually.

“Why.” you say, “Why do you have those things?”

“The earthworms are for the compost,” Jade says, “and the maggots are for eating meat and other scraps that the earthworms and compost can’t use.”

“Oh gods. No. Just. _No_.” Dave immediately backs away from the boxes and Jade like they’re leaking red sand plague, “I am not letting you keep maggots as a weird pet.”

“The maggots aren’t pets, Dave!” Jade huffs, “You can use them to clean wounds and with how much meat you guys eat, it cuts down on your waste by feeding them the scraps. And in time of starvation, you can eat them.”

“No. No fucking way. If I get a cut in the future, get me a fucking band-aid. _A band-aid that you will buy at a store._ Not maggots.” Dave looks at you, “You’ll make sure she gets me a band-aid right?”

“But band-aids don’t heal as quickly as maggots can!” Jade insists.

“Its 2128! I’m not using maggots when band-aids and anti-infection gel exist!”

“Anti-infection gel is a rip-off!”

After a long argument, Jade keeps the maggots but they stay outside with the earthworms and Jake is conscripted to build a future enclosure for the creepy crawlies.

“You just had to flush the mad scientist girl with the maggots, earthworms, and hulking barkfiend. You just _had_ to.” You’re trying to push Bec out of your spot on the couch but you may as well be shoving a wall of muscle.

“I love Jade but I just. _Maggots_.” A shiver goes through them. “The further they’re from me the better.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why. Its just one of those things I don’t like. Maggots just…” He trails off, muttering, “…dead bodies. Fire. Corpses. Dead bodies in general are just something I don’t want to be around. Ever.”

You don’t have to see his eyes to tell he’s uneasy. You drop the subject and go back to rearranging. Between the boxes and the dog, its chaotic moving around the living room. You’re seeing Dave act a lot like Sollux and Equius following Jade around the mobilehive.

“Are you sure you should be so close to the microwave?” Dave asks.

“Dave, I work in a garage. I breathe in chemical solvents for a living and my father was a drug addict. The damage has been done.” Jade replies.

“Yeah, but you don’t want to pour gasoline on a lose wire.”

“I don’t get the big deal with humans and mutations.” you say, “My _blood_ is mutated and it never bothered me.”

“Mutations are different for humans. They tend to do more harm than good.” Dave says.

“Not all mutations are bad, but a lot of social conservatives think humanity should stay the same,” Jade sighs, “despite scientific evidence proving humanity has already mutated to deal with the conditions of living on a different planet. And don’t most trolls dislike mutantbloods?”

“Old Alternian trolls don’t like anything that’s different.” you say, “Nowadays, mutantbloods are just useless genetic fluid dumpsters for highbloods. That whole ‘entitled to have you because my blood is higher’ attitude.”

“But didn’t you sleep with two coldbloods?” Jade asks.

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, but that’s different.”

“Different how? In fact, aren’t most of the warmbloods with coldbloods? There’s Tavros and Gamzee, Terezi and your Dad, Eridan and Sollux, Nepeta’s parents, Nepeta’s grandparents, Vriska and Kanaya’s parents…”

“First off, _no one_ considers Tavros and Gamzee a couple. More like two feral dogs that keep exchanging the same fleas. Secondly, jadeblood and olivebloods aren’t considered ‘warm’; more like tepid. Thirdly, why do you know all of this?”

“I hung out with Rose, who hung out with Kanaya, and Tavros is my kismesis.”

Well that explains it. You’re bound to know everything that’s going on in the trailer park if you hang out with Kanaya, Terezi, or Vriska.

You spend most of the weekend hidden in Dave’s room while Jade and Jake talk gunspeak. You update your fiction, check your kudos and reviews. You avoid talking to or seeing Kankri because your feelings are still mixed. On Sunday night you get a message from Kanaya.

 

\--grimAuxilatrix[GA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist[CG]!--

 

GA: How Are You Doing Karkat

CG: I’M FINE. WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP CHECKING UP ON ME LIKE I JUST FOUND OUT I HAVE BRAIN AMOEBAS?

GA: It May Have Something To Do With Everyone Finding Out That Jade Is Moving In With Dave And Your Quadrant Has Shifted

CG: OH MY GODS. DOES THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD KNOW?

GA: I Would Think So As Jade Told Tavros Who Told Aradia Who Told Equius Who Told Horuss Who Told My Mother And You Know It Is To Keep A Secret With Her

CG: IS THAT WHY SOLLUX INVITED ME OVER HIS PLACE? HE PROBABLY WANTS TO HAVE “POST QUADRANT-BREAKUP/SHIFT” HANG OUT LIKE WE DID AFTER HE BROKE UP WITH FEFERI.

GA: Actually The Solfef Ship Has Been Repaired Theyre Out Together Right Now Im With Eridan Acting One Part Matesprit One Part Ashen Buffer Between Mituna And Him

CG: YEAH TEREZI TOLD ME THAT ERIDAN AND MITUNA ARE HAVING A PROBLEM.

GA: Mitunas Heat Cycle Has Begun Which Is Making Things Problematic

CG: THAT’S GOTTA SUCK FOR ERIDAN. HE TOLD ME HOW HE’S ON SEX PROBATION.

CG: BUT WHAT ARE YOU REALLY MESSAGING ME FOR? YOU RARELY GOSSIP TO ME.

GA: I Wanted To Know Why You Were Avoiding My Sister

CG: I’M NOT AVOIDING HER. I’M JUST GIVING HER THE SPACE SHE WANTED.

GA: Karkat Its Obvious How You Feel About Her You Remember What Happened At Your Grandfathers Funeral

CG: …WHY DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?

GA: I Saw Of Course I Went To Go Comfort You At The Wake And There You Two Were

 

You haven’t thought about your grandfather’s funeral for years. The funeral had been upsetting for everyone. There were hundreds of people at the wake; trolls, humans, and even a few lizards. The only ones not interacting were trolls wearing all black, observing everything. You walked to the funeral by yourself and followed the adults to the wake at Meenah’s house. Kankri was too upset to go and Cronus stayed with him to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. You knew grandpa had been sick for a long time but having him gone left a gaping wound in your chest. You sat on the back porch, too upset to cry or speak to anyone. Eventually Vriska walked over and sat next to you. She didn’t say a word; she just held your hand and leaned against you. You stayed that way until she had to leave.

 

GA: Ive Known How Shes Felt About You Since You Were Both Small I Just Didnt Say Anything Because Its Hard For Ceruleanbloods To Quadrant

GA: Their Hemotype Has Issues With Communication Honesty And Trust When Theyre Young The Only Reason Grandma Mindfang And Mothers Relationships Worked Out Is Because They Were Older

CG: I…I JUST DON’T KNOW ABOUT A RELATIONSHIP RIGHT NOW, OKAY? I DON’T WANT TO RUSH INTO SOMETHING AGAIN AND IT TURNS OUT MY FEELINGS ARE WRONG OR NOT RECIPROCATED.

CG: KANAYA, ABOUT GRANDPA’S FUNERAL, I’M REMEMBERING SOMETHING WEIRD. THERE WERE A LOT OF PEOPLE THERE.

GA: Well Your Grandfather Knew A Lot Of People Karkat

CG: YEAH, BUT THE BLACK COATS WERE THERE AND BLACK COATS SHOWED UP AT DUALSCAR’S FUNERAL TOO. DO BLACK COATS ALWAYS SHOW UP AT FUNERALS?

GA: Hm

GA: Now That You Mention It There Were Black Coats At The Other Funerals Too But Dualscars Funeral Was The First Time They Interacted With Us They Usually Just Wander Around The Neighborhood And Blend In

CG: WHERE ARE THEY EVEN FROM?

GA: No One Knows Where Theyre From Or What They Do They Dont Talk To You Unless Youre Selling Eggs Though Now Everyone Has To Be More Careful Because Of The Fakes

CG: FAKE BLACK COATS? HOW CAN YOU EVEN TELL THE REAL FROM THE FAKE?

GA: Thats Part Of The Problem No One Knows Enough About Either Party To Tell Them Apart But The Fake Black Coats Apparently Sell Eggs On The Illegal Egg Market According To Damara

CG: UGH. LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT THE BLACK MARKET EGG SELLERS. IT GROSSES ME OUT. I BET YOU’RE JUST GOSSIPING ALL ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE WITH ERIDAN WHILE YOU FEED HIM FISHSTICKS.

GA: Eridan Doesnt Like Fishsticks He Prefers Fried Shrimp And Im Actually Calculating When The Eggs Are Going To Be Delivered Just In Case Someone Needs To Go To The Hospital Or Call In For Work

CG: THAT’S ACTUALLY A GOOD IDEA.

GA: So Far Aradia Is The Only One Who Has To Worry Since Her Egg Is Coming In August Followed By Eridan Feferi Terezi And Nepeta

GA: Aradia And Eridans Eggs Will Be The Only Ones To Hatch Later This Year The Others Wont Hatch Until Next Year

CG: THAT’S GONNA BE FUCKING NERVE WRACKING. IT’S THE WAITING THAT’S THE WORST. I FEEL SO BAD ABOUT COUPLES THAT JUST KEPT WAITING AND THEN THE EGG NEVER HATCHES. IT MUST BE THE WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD.

GA: Regular Ultrasounds Help Prevent That Sort Of Thing But Sometimes It Cant Be Helped We Just Have To Hope Theyll Be Alright

CG: HEY, JADE MIGHT BE PREGNANT. CAN YOU CALCULATE HUMAN PREGNANCIES?

GA: Of Course Its Just A Matter Of Math When Did She Conceive

CG: ACCORDING TO THEM THE CONDOM BROKE WHEN THEY DID ON THURSDAY.

GA: Humans Have A Nine Month Gestation So Her Due Date Would Be In Early March Of Next Year A Month After Nepetas Grub Hatches

CG: FUCK I’M NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO HAVING CLASS WITH A LOT OF PREGNANT PEOPLE LIKE LAST YEAR. EVERY TIME WE HAVE A SCHOOL DANCE OR FUNCTION SOMEONE EITHER HAS BABY OR GETS PREGNANT. LIKE AT OUR SOPHOMORE DANCE SOMEONE HAD A BABY IN THE BATHROOM.  

GA: Oh Yes Beck Stevenson

CG: THAT WAS BECK STEVENSON?

GA: Supposedly I Wasnt There But Thats What I Heard

CG: NEITHER WAS I. I SHOULD GO. I HAVE TO GET READY FOR MY FIRST DAY OF WORK TOMORROW

GA: Alright And Be Careful

CG: OH MY GOD ITS JUST A CLEANING GIG. NO BIG DEAL.

 


	2. the first day

**=== >Karkat: Get ready for work**

You take the bus downtown to the Merry Meet office. Once you arrive you’re given a uniform complete with stockings and shoes and directed to the employee changing room. You change into your uniform and place your clothes in a designated locker. The dress is a half-inch above your knees, the sleeves are long, and the apron has plenty of pockets. Once you’re dressed, you get into the van driven by an oliveblood who looks like a heavily tattooed male Nepeta on steroids. The others are talking in their own language or playing on their iHusks.

The van leaves downtown and goes to Variance Beach, miles of perfectly watered green lawns, country clubs, and beachfront property. Tucked away in the woods and past an armored gate, the van approaches a manor hidden behind high walls and trees. There are gaudy clown statues on the lawn and the colonnades are carved with the same mirthful faces. Everyone is oohing and aahing at the sight, but you get a cold squeamish feeling in the pit of your stomach. You’re brought to the back of the manor and unloaded out of the van. The oliveblood escorts you to the foyer. On the walls are paintings of clowns. The largest painting is of a horde of Subjuggulators charging onto the battlefield and above them in the clouds is the Consort of Causality riding the Beast at Time’s End.  

The busty yellowblood from your interview is in the foyer, wearing an incredibly tight maid uniform. “This is a private residence and anything that happens here will be private and not gossiped about, even in the halls. Gossiping will result in immediate termination. You will always knock before entering. You will always make sure the door is not locked. If the door is locked you will not enter. This is a busy residence and many people come in and out. Their names are ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ unless specified otherwise. Rudeness will never be tolerated. I am to be addressed as ‘Miss Bustil’ and you will only contact me in a dire emergency. Break is at twelve for a half-hour and loafing will not be tolerated.” She smiles, “Do your jobs, don’t complain, and everything should go smoothly. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am…” you all intone.

You’re split up into groups; some of you take the second and third floor while you remain with the group on the first level. You walk through the halls avoiding clowns. You can’t snarl or hiss at them on the job so you just ignore them. Your group takes a step ladder, which you end up carrying. You stop in the hall near a stuffed seagoat head mounted on the wall. Your partners are sweeping, polishing, and mopping.

“I’m going to clean the sea-goat, okay?” you tell to your partners.

They don’t look at you or respond. You climb onto the step ladder and dust the stuffed seagoat, trying not to look at the dead eyes and dangling tongue. Focusing on work helps ignore the catcalls of the clowns you’ve attracted.

“What a cute lookin’ mutie.”

“Hey, mutie, what’s it like to be as tall as a highblood?”

You’re grinding your teeth as you continue dusting. Your group has started to inch away from you since you’re keeping the clowns preoccupied. Just ignore it. They’re just dumbasses. They can’t do anything to you while you’re on the job.

“Aww, lookit her trying to pretend she can’t hear us.”

“You sure dat’s a she? Not big in da heftsack department…”

“Like _that’s_ the thing I wanna stick your bulge into.”

You turn around and glare at them. You’re not female but you want to sock them in the jaw. Your ladder is surrounded by three clowns; a skinny one, a tall one wearing a flak jacket, and another missing an eye.

The one in the jacket nudges the skinny one, “Ooooh, Phaxin. She’s _mad_ at you.”

“Think she’s pissed off at _you_ , Roadie.” says the skinny one.

You slowly climb down the ladder but they’re surrounding you. You glare at them and say, calmly and politely, “Excuse me… _sirs,_ but I have to go to the kitchen. Please.”

Another one lifts up your chin. You step away from him. “Don’t fuc… _please_ don’t touch me. While I’m on the job.” It feels like swallowing dry sand being polite to these fucks.

The one who touches your face smirks at Roadie. “Hey, doesn’t this one look like Hoodoo?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised. Hoodoo was a complete slut. Probably has eggs from here to the west coast.” Roadie says.

“I have to continue working.” you say, trying to squirm past the wall of muscle.

Roadie grabs your arm. “Hey, where’s the fire? How ‘bout you take off a bit while your pals are workin’?”

“Let me go. _Please_.” You tug on your arm to get away from him. “I just want to work.”

“Hey, what’s the rush, mutie?” Phaxin chuckles.

“You chucklefucks are blocking the hallway.” A smooth voice says. You can’t see who it belongs to because you’ve got obnoxious clown on all sides.

Phaxin frowns. “Harqun. What are you doing here?”

“I’m doing my business,” is the response, “like what you assholes are _supposed_ to be doing.”

The clowns separate from you and now you see a purpleblood female in a fur coat and harlequin face paint. (Who in the hell wears a fur coat in the summer?) She’s also smaller than the purpleblood females you’ve seen as are her horns. There’s something familiar about her but you can’t explain what.

“We’re going. We were just meeting the new help.” Phaxin grumbles.  

“You already have the Mirthful Wing, assholes.” Harqun replies.

The clowns grumble but walk off, leaving you with Harqun. You mutter, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“I didn’t do it for _you_. They were in my way.” Harqun replies. “What are you staring at, mutie?”

“You look…familiar.” You move closer to her and catch a whiff of her scent. She’s not in heat but her smell is the same scent you get off of Eridan, Meenah, and Kankri. But you’ve never met this troll before in your life.

“What in the shit are you doing?” she growls.

“You sort of…um…” You’re too embarrassed to admit she smells like your mother.

Harqun shows you her fangs, scowling, “Get a move on, fat ass!”  

“Y-yes ma’am!” You run in direction of the kitchen as there are dishes that need washing.

The day continues and you have to focus on scrubbing and polishing instead of thinking about your glute getting pinched, touched, or slapped. At five you return to the foyer. Your feet and glute hurt but the others are in rougher shape with rumpled and stained uniforms. Someone is missing their stockings. Bustil doesn’t mention it. You get back into the van and return to the downtown office. You change back into your clothes, dumping your uniform in a bin. You get in the paycheck line. You’re aching and considering getting a less humiliating job. 

Then you see the check for 160 boons and your feet ache less. If you can make it the week you’ll have 800 dollars in the bank. While riding the bus home, you realize the job isn’t that bad. The clowns are no different from the assholes at school. If you keep ignoring them, they’ll get bored and move on. It’s a shitty thing to do to your coworkers but you have no choice. If you last long, you could start putting away towards a college fund. Once you’re back at the Strider mobilehive, you immediately take off your shoes. You flop onto the couch next to Jade and Dave who look equally tired.

Day one is done at least. 


	3. the second day

**== >Karkat: Dust off the bookshelves the next day**

Your strategy for the next day is to avoid clowns. You go up to the third floor of the manor where there are fewer people wandering the halls. You’ve heard murmuring from other rooms and smelt cigar smoke. You’re not going to investigate it since its not your job. You go to the library full of books stacked up high that you need a ladder to get at. You never were comfortable with heights. You could only get three feet off the ground when you had to climb the rope in gym class, but you have a job to do. All you need to do is dust the shelves, organize any books out of place, and then you’ll be done in this room.

You dust for roughly fifteen minutes before the ladder wobbles. You squeal and tumble backwards, falling from the ladder. You don’t hit the floor though. You fall into the large cold arms of a purpleblood wearing a designer suit. His hair is slicked back and his face paint isn’t smeared or flaking. This is a man who owns a tie, a car, and his house.

“Careful now.” He puts you down on the ground and smiles politely. “I’d hate to have anyone get hurt on the job.”

“Uh, thank you sir.” You’re not used to a purpleblood like him; he’s the anti-Grand Highblood, “It won’t happen again.”

“You make it sound like it’s a chore to be kind. What’s your name?”

“Karkat Vantas.” you mutter nervously.

“What a nice name; and I’m assuming you spell it in Old Alternian using the characters for ‘bond’ and ‘protect’?”

“I don’t know, sir. I never learned Old Alternian.”

“It’s a sad thing when languages die out.” The older troll sighs, “I actually have a task for you. I’m having a meeting but my secretary is busy. Would you mind serving us? If its not too much trouble.”

You shake your head. “I wouldn’t mind at all, sir.”

You’ve never served drinks before but you can try. This man obviously owns the manor and he’ll put in a good word for you at the company. You follow him out of the library and down the hall into a meeting room thick with cigarillo smoke. There’s a table laid out with expensive food pushed against the wall. At a long ebony table in the center of the room purplebloods wearing designer suits, smoke and talk in low murmurs. There’s already a few bottles open on the table and some fruit you’re sure is just for decoration. Standing in the corner is the fur coat wearing troll you encountered in the hall earlier.  

“Capone, about time you got back.” grunts one. They look at you. “Who’s the doll?”

“Nobody important.” The troll, Capone, says. He sits at the head of the table, “He’ll be serving us.”

“He?” mutters one of the trolls. “You… _sure_ about that?”

“Does it matter?” Capone frowns and looks at the troll closest to him, “Let’s get back to business. Vinnie, tell me about what’s going on your side of things.”

Vinnie licks his lips nervously, “Our sources for iron are drying up. They’re being bought out or uncovered by the pigs. Things are cracking down since Mirth Gras is tomorrow. I’m thinking we abstain from business during the holiday until the fire cools off.”

“Pour me a little of that Screaming Skyhorse, honey.” You carefully pour the wine into a glass and hand it to him. Capone slips you a folded bill. He sips the wine, “Gilpin won’t wait. Those idiots don’t care about holidays or traditions. She’ll order her boys to act worse.”

“If they act up too much, the fire’ll be on then. Give me some of that chicken breast stuffed with prosciutto.” says another.

You continue ferrying wine and food back and forth, getting tips in the tens and twenties. You stuff money into your apron pocket. There’s a lot of bickering at the meeting, a lot of back and forth. Certain words keep coming up: _Gilpin. Fire. Iron._ Its code you’re not going to try deciphering.  

“I’m going to reach out to Scrate and his crew. They hate Gilpin and they have more resources.” Capone says.

There’s griping all around at the word _Scrate._

“Scrate? Why that freak gotta be around us?”

“That mutant bastard is motherfucking _weird_.”

“He hangs with apes. We shouldn’t be putting up with _anybody_ who hangs with apes.”

“Scrate _is_ eccentric,” Capone admits, “but he is a powerful ally.”

“I bet this shit was _Vinnie’s_ idea.” There’s a sneer behind the name _Vinnie_ , in the same tone someone says _ape-fucker._

“I’m trying to save our business,” Vinnie huffs, eating more prosciutto. “This is supposed to be about making money, not who we like and dislike. Are we businessmen or high schoolers?”

There’s grumbling but not as much. Vinnie has a point. Capone leans back in his chair, “If you don’t want anything to do with Scrate, I suggest you pack your bags.” That man stands and walks to you. He reaches into his wallet and hands you two bills, both fifties. “That’ll be all, Karkat. If Bustil asks, just tell her you were with me.”

You quickly leave the room. There’s laughter and muttering as you leave. You hope its raise; praise means a bigger tip. You walk to the stairwell, and as you descend the stairs, you see a troll in a green and white suit followed by a woman with magenta hair and cold blue eyes. Rose is next to him, holding his arm and wearing a black and purple dress. Rose and you look at each other but don’t say anything.  

It takes longer for you to get home because the tourists are arriving. You see license plates from Chiquago, Dadlas, Los Jaspers, and Nanwalkie. Nanwalkie tourists are the worst in your opinion; not as annoying as Chiquagians, but incredibly loud and heavy drinkers. If there’s a fight outside of a bar or a complaint about loud music, its someone from Nanwalkie. Despite traffic, you get home first. You get started on dinner, pulling out a box of angel hair alfredo. While the pasta is boiling, you get a message on Trollian.  

 

\--tentacleTherapist[TT] began trolling carcinoGeneticist[CG]!--

 

TT: Alright. So. 

TT: About today.

CG: WHAT IN THE SHIT WERE YOU DOING THERE?

TT: What were you doing there?

CG: I WAS WORKING.

TT: So was I.

CG: BULLSHIT. YOU LOOKED LIKE THE GUY’S GIRLFRIEND.

TT: I’m not his girlfriend, I’m his secretary.

CG: YOU WERE HOLDING ONTO HIS ARM.

TT: A gesture of good will and nothing more.

TT: You were separated from the maids who were actually working, assuming you were with your boss.

CG: HE’S NOT MY BOSS, HE'S A CLIENT, AND WE HAVE A STRICTLY BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP.

TT: Said the “maid”.

CG: SAID THE “SECRETARY”.

TT: …

CG: …

TT: I think it would be in our best interest to keep this indiscretion amongst ourselves and just pretend we don’t know each other to avoid any conflicts of interest.

CG: AGREED.  

 

And that was the end of that. 


	4. money talks

The next day, the streets are flooded with people. In the trailer park, people are setting off fireworks, playing music, eating and drinking on lawns and backyards. People walk to bars or are looking for rides to the Strip or the Fairgrounds in East New Jack. Most people get the holiday off but not you. You still dress for the holiday though as you get festive masks with your uniform. When you arrive at the manor, there aren’t any purplebloods wandering about. The kitchen is occupied with cooks cutting and mashing. Bustil is stricter, supervising as maids rearrange and add decorations.

When she sees you though, she grabs your arm. “Mister Capone wishes to see you. Go upstairs immediately.”

If its another meeting, you hope you can get some canolis. You ascend the stairs and see Capone and Phaxin talking. A kit is running up to Capone and chasing him is a brownblood in a suit.  

“Dad. _Dad_!” says the kit.

“What do you want now, Achile?” Capone growls, “I told you never to bother me during work hours. Mermes, take him back to his play room.”

“Its boring in there…” the kit, Achile, whines, “I miss Hektor…”

Capone rolls his eyes. “Stop sniveling. Mermes, take the boy to the park or something. He’s not supposed to be around when I’m _working._ ”

“Its Mirth Gras…” Achile mutters, “…Mommy always took me to the fair…”

“That’s what _Mermes_ is for.” Capone groans, like he’s telling the kit for the third time that fire is hot and water is wet. “I don’t have the time to lose _my_ hard earned money on cheap games.”

“But they’re _fun_!” Achile says.

Capone reaches inside his wallet and hands the brownblood a wad of boons. “Take him out, and if you want to keep your job you’ll keep him out of my sight for the rest of the week.”

The brownblood nods and takes Achile’s hand. “Come on, Achile. We’ll have fun together. I’ll get you funnel cake.” they say in a thick Denziena accent.

Achile and the brownblood walk off. Your heart goes out to the kit, remembering when you wanted to play with Kankri when he was too drunk to even remember your name.

“Shit, man.” Phaxin mutters, “All the kid wants is to get to know you…”

“Is the godsdamned _package_ ready?” Capone snarls, showing his teeth.

Phaxin sighs and pushes his shades up on his face, “Yeah, its ready. I still don’t think this is an appropriate time for…delivery.”

“Just do as you’re told. Between you and K—” Capone sees you then, “Oh, Karkat. I was wondering when you’d show up.” He glares at Phaxin, “Get to work, Bolton.”

Phaxin walks away but you see the disgruntled look on his face. Capone is too busy smiling at you to notice. “Karkat, I need you to serve some guests again. Can you be as attentive as you were yesterday?”

You smile. “Sure!”

You enter a different room, decorated with the usual gaudy clown motif. There’s Mirth Gras food on display: Mirthful Cake, chocolate covered bananas, chocolate liqueur, wine, polenta, and rabbit. It doesn’t look like your local Mirth Gras dishes.

“I can’t believe you’re catering to that freakshow Scrate.” grunts a purpleblood, drinking chocolate liqueur, “This place is our paradise. You let Scrate come in here and it’ll stink of apes.”

“Stabia, _please_.” Capone sighs as you pour his wine into a glass. “We need to make all the allies we can.”

“I think de Muertos made a point saying that Scrate’s kind are only friendly to addicts and kits.” says another, “They’re sneaky and slippery as fuck. De Muertos’s been around enough to—”

“Do _not_ bring up that motherfucker.” Capone snarls, “Bastard is mouthier than ever and he can’t even talk. Being mute’s just makes him bolder if you ask me.”

The others lapse into silence. Capone smiles at you. “Karkat, how’d you like to make some extra money?”

“How much, sir?” you ask.

Capone opens his wallet and places six 50 boondollars on the table in front of him, right next to the plate of half-eaten Mirthful Cake and an ashtray. “I think three hundred boons is fair.”

Three hundred boons is more than fair. That’s enough money to cover two days of work in case you get sick, or if Terezi or Vriska need you. “What do you…want me to do, sir?”

“Sit on the couch, spread your legs, and touch yourself.”

If this was a penniless chucklefuck on the street, you would have yelled “Fuck no” and spat in his face. This troll isn’t a self-entitled sociopath living the old homeworld fantasy. This is a powerful businessman with a house and cars you’ll never be able to afford. Capone’s expression doesn’t change.

“That’s all you want me to do?” you ask.

“That’s it.” Capone nods. “Of course if you don’t want to, you can just go about your business. I just thought you’d want the… _opportunity_.”

Three hundred boons could be put away towards medical insurance or your kids’ college fund. Still, he’s treating you like a piece of meat, a flesh and blood pin-up troll. You can’t take your eyes off the money though.

“Okay…” you murmur.

“Its not like what you have is a secret.” Capone says. “Just do it slowly.”

You’d like to shout your response but your throat feels swollen. Your hands are quaking. You lift up your skirt, hook your thumbs into your underwear. _Its for a good cause. Its not that big a deal. Its not like I’m a virgin,_ is how you rationalize it. You’ve seen (and written) enough pornographic scenes to do this the right away. Everything has to be taken slow and showy. What they want is young, naïve, and harmless mutantblood.

It occurs to you (while you’re prodding the sodden lips of the outermost folds of your nook) that you’ve never masturbated your nook sitting up. You barely masturbated before your heat cycle. You keep your eyes shut. Looking at their craven eyes would definitely wilt your bulge. Your bulge would wilt otherwise. You try focusing on your motivation: medical insurance, dental insurance. Your fingers move a little deeper, your panting quickens.

“Stop.”  

Your eyes open. “W-what…?”

Capone is standing over you. His face is flushed but you don’t if its from you or the wine. “I said stop. You’ve earned your money.”

“Oh…” You have to wrench your fingers from your nook. Your bulge tries clinging to your wrist. Your nook is still dripping warm, clear fluids.

You try to look calm and indifferent but you’re trembling. You pull your underwear up and pocket your money. You don’t look at anyone as you leave the room. Your stomach’s in a knot and your heart is racing. You go to the bathroom , splash water on your face, wipe it clean. You take a few deep breaths and look in the mirror. Same old Karkat. Same tired expression. Nothing has changed. They didn’t touch or force you. You did this because you wanted to give your kids what you never had. There’s no one here to judge you.

You still feel disgusted.

As soon as you return home, you take a hot shower. You put your money in the cashbox. Tomorrow you’ll deposit it. If you earn enough, you can get a credit card and a car. What you’re doing is important. You’re doing it for the future. For your kids.

So why do you still feel grossed out?

Your iHusk vibrates. You’re grateful for the distraction.

 

\--gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling carcinoGeneticist[CG]!--

 

GC: THR33 WORDS

GC: D33P FR13D KOOL41D >:9

CG: SOUNDS LIKE A THREE WORD SYNONYM FOR GASTROENTERITIS.

GC: BUT K4RK4T 1TS M1RTH GR4S! 1T’S TH3 ONLY T1M3 OF TH3 Y34R TH3Y S3LL D33P FR13D KOOL41D D33P FR13D MUSHROOMS SP4GH3TT1 4ND M34TB4LLS ON 4 ST1CK 4ND CRONUTS!

CG: SHOULD YOU REALLY BE EATING ALL OF THAT WITH TWO EGGS ON THE WAY? THEY’RE GOING TO WEIGH LIKE 80 POUNDS COMING OUT OF YOU.

GC: BUT…!

GC: P1ZZ4 CON3S CR4WF1SH BO1LS 4ND DOUGHNUT H4MBURG3RS K4RK4T! >:[

CG: I DON’T WANT TO DIE AT AGE 20 OF A HEART ATTACK WHILE TRYING TO CHOKE DOWN A DOUGHNUT HAMBURGER WITH EXTRA CHEESE AND BACON. WHY NOT GET KANKRI TO GO?

GC: YOU KNOW H3’S SC4R3D OF GO1NG OUT ON M1RTH GR4S 4ND H3 R3FUS3S TO COM3 OUT OF H1S ROOM >:[

CG: FEFERI?

GC: SH3 H4T3S M1RTH GR4S 4S 4 ‘4NNOY1NG P4G4N HOL1D4Y’ 4ND SH3 C4N’T GO 4NYWH3R3 F4R W1TH H3R S31ZUR3S

CG: VRISKA?

GC: 4T TH3 STR1P G4MBL1NG THOUGH W3’R3 M33T1NG UP 4T TH3 F41RGROUNDS L4T3R

CG: DAVE?

GC:  H3’S 4LR34DY TH3R3 W1TH J4D3 4ND JOHN!

CG: I THOUGHT EGDERP WAS ON TOUR?

GC: H3’S ON BR34K FOR TH3 HOL1D4Y 4ND H3’S L34V1NG 4G41N FR1D4Y MORN1NG

GC: COM3 ONNNNNN K4RK4T! WHY WON’T YOU COM3?

CG: CAUSE WE ARE WAY TOO OLD FOR THE FAIRGROUNDS. LIKE, TEN YEARS TOO OLD. IT’LL BE LIKE THAT EPISODE OF THE THRESH PRINCE OF BELAIR WHERE TROLL WILL SMITH IS IN THAT PLAY WITH THE KITS DRESSED UP LIKE FLOWERS AND HE LOOKS LIKE A GIANT.

GC: YOU’R3 ONLY 4S OLD 4S YOU TH1NK YOU 4R3 K4RK4T 4ND TH4T M34NS YOU’R3 N3V3R TOO “OLD” FOR 4 LOT OF TH1NGS 4ND TH3Y H4V3 SO MUCH N34T STUFF L1K3 FR13D P34CH P13S 4ND B4CON 3NCRUST3D SHR1MP!

CG: …

CG: BACON ENCRUSTRED SHRIMP YOU SAY.

GC: TH3R3 1S 4 B4CON4L14 S3CT1ON TH1S Y34R SPONSOR3D BY N3B1O 4ND 4P3XCOM S3RV1NG UP 4LL TH31R D1FF3R3NT CUTS OF 3CTOB1OLOG1C4LLY M4D3 B4CON >:]

CG: WELL.

CG: YOU KNOW.

CG: ITS NOT SAFE FOR YOU TO GO BY YOURSELF.

GC: OH L1K3 1’M 3V3R 1N D4NG3R >:]

CG: AND YOU’RE NOT DRIVING.

GC: R4TS FO1L3D 4G41N >:[

 

\--gallowsCalibrator[GC] ceased trolling carcinoGeneticist[CG]!--

 

You take two hundred of the money Capone gave you. At least you can have fun with it. 

* * *

You’re locals of New Jack and know only tourists park at the fairgrounds parking lot. You park in the woods with the rest of the locals and walk to the fairgrounds. The fairground is in East New Jack since only they have the space. Its mostly families and young kids on their first night out alone, sometimes escorted by lusus. You walk through the stall jungle, watching the costumed crowds. 

“Remember our first time here by ourselves?” you ask.

“Yeah, we were five and you were nervous about being alone. Then you got angry at the whack-a-groundrat game.” Terezi snickers.

“Whack-a-groundrat is always a rip off. Skee ball and the water gun game are the only ones that aren’t rigged.”

Terezi sniffs the air and points to a booth. “Karkat, look! Dinosaur dig!”

“Not dinosaur dig. Anything but _dinosaur_ _dig_ …” You groan.

“But dinosaur dig is so much fun, Karkat!”

“No. Not its not. It’s a rip-off, its messy, and the prizes are really cheap.” 

“Dinosaur dig is the best game ever!”

“You just wanted to eat the dirt…”

“I was five so _of course_ I wanted to do that.”

The dinosaur dig game is reserved for very young kits and very stupid children. Basically you shift through a kiddie pool filled with dirt trying to find plastic dinosaur eggs with cheap prizes in them or slips of paper for prizes from the special prize box. Terezi and you pay two boons each to rifle through dirt (which is supposed to be Play Sand but from the rocks and clumps of grass, you doubt it). You get a plastic egg that has a Hadrosaur finger puppet inside. Terezi gets a slip of paper in her egg which means she receives the special prize of dinosaur grabber toy with a Mapusaurus head.

“This is the most mature evening we’ve ever had together.” you sigh.

Terezi pokes you with her dinosaur grabber. “You’re just jealous because you didn’t get the _cool_ prize.”

“That _must_ be it.” You smirk and take her hand, “Come on. There’s more things to see.”

You buy her as much junk food as she wants. Why not? You knocked her up so you may as well feed her. You just hope your kid won’t come out a hyperactive little maniac because of the candy apples, fried dough with powdered sugar, and fried kool-aid (which is delicious you admit). You go to the petting zoo afterwards. They don’t have anything special this year: goatadiles, hogzillas, zeedonky, goat-sheep, a wholphin, jaglion kittens. You stand at the edge of the pen, watching the goatadiles.

You look at the mottled white and greys of the animals and say, “You think the humans on Old Earth would have been freaked out by how weird our animals are?”   

“All _sorts_ of things freak humans out, like my teeth.” Terezi grins, “Its their fault that so many of their animals got messed up. They weren’t prepared for the long space voyage and radiation got to the DNA-ectoslime imprints they had of Old Earth’s animals. Certain species couldn’t be replicated and others couldn’t survive on New Earth. None of the Old Earth fish survived the oceans because of the seahorrors.”

“And their animals crossbred with lusii.” You feed meat pellets to a baby goatdile that keeps headbutting your hand. “Just look at this adorably confusing little guy. He’s got scales _and_ fur.”

“And fangs sharp enough to bite off your fingers if you’re not careful. They only let you feed the babies for a reason.”

“Speaking of babies, what are you going to do about school? You’re laying in September.”

Terezi shrugs, “I’m doing the stay at home program until I lay.”

“So, how was the interview?”

Terezi sighs, “I don’t know. Neither of them called me back yet. I’m going in for another interview at WMS. Meenah says there’s an administrative position open downtown. The tough part is finding a job with insurance. Everyone else is getting a job. Nepeta got a job at Rutpol and they have a union that gives health care.”

Rutpol (Rutledge Pollution Mechanical) was a biofuel company. They collected garbage and skimmed the waterways and draining ditches for dead bodies. “Sounds awful.”

“Nepeta’s never been the squeamish type. She kills rats for fun.” Terezi leans on the banister, sighing. “At least she’s got a job. I don’t even know what I’m going to do after I graduate next year.”

“I thought you wanted to go to become an attorney or a cop?”

“I can’t be a cop if I’m blind, Karkat, and I don’t like the idea of leaving Kankri or my grubs behind if I get hurt. Law school is expensive and the programs won’t let you work the first year unless you’re part time. I’ll barely be home because I’ll be swamped with work…”

You think. “Terezi, you’re good with money. You helped take care of Sollux, Mituna, and budget your family’s expenses.”

She frowns. “I don’t think being a teacher or taking care of the elderly or kits is for me.”

“No, what I’m saying is that those skills would be helpful in a large corporation. Businesses need people in management and marketing to come up with interesting ideas and solve problems. Why not be a consultant for now?”

Terezi smiles, “I could save up the money for law school.”

“There’s no rule saying your life is over once you have kids. If you give up everything now, you’ll feel unfulfilled later on in life.”

“ _Terezi_!” calls a voice. “Over here!” 

Vriska is running toward you. She is wearing a mask and a creamy white and black princess costume. She smirks at Terezi. “Looks like you got another good prize.” The ceruleanblood looks at you and frowns, “What are you doing here? You hate Mirth Gras.”

“I don’t _hate_ it. I just don’t go cause its dull to go by yourself.” You also hate being around the sketchy clowns during the holiday. Vriska looks unhappier with your answer.

“What’s wrong?” Terezi whispers.

A costumed troll walks over to Vriska, holding a huge puffball of cotton candy. He has a mask on and is wearing a top hat that clashes with his princely costume. He’s a seatroll though his gills are small. “Vris, look what I got.” He looks at you. “Oh, who’re these two? Friends of yours?”

“Something like that…” you growl.

Terezi glances from you to the seatroll and coughs, _“Oh.”_

“I’m Nektan. Pleased to meet you.” The seatroll holds out his hand. You don’t shake it and he quickly retracts it.

Vriska rubs her temples. “Terezi…let’s…go get some candy apples. Over there. We’ll…be right back.” She glares at you, “Try not to do anything stupid.”

That’s code for _Don’t think about punching Nektan,_ though that’s the first thing that comes to mind. Vriska tugs Terezi away and you know she’s going to ask her why in the hell she brought you along. You look at the seatroll and he looks at you.

“So,” says the seatroll, “you’re _Karkat_.”

“Yes…” you say, not disguising your annoyance.

Immediately the hands go to his chin and he’s looking you up and down like a specimen. “So you are the _father_! Interesting. Its _very interesting_ to meet a troll who has grubs out of quadrants. Is that sort of thing prevalent?”

“Prevalent?”

“Where you live. Vriska hasn’t told me much about her home life but my understanding is that she’s from a far poorer area, so I suspect the Ninth Ward. I find that sort of place _fascinating_.”

“Fascinating?” Now you _really_ want to punch him.

“Yes! That whole sort of living on a prayer, living on the fringe of society thing has _always_ been an area of interest to me. My schooling is in business but I have _always_ enjoyed the pursuit of alternative ways of living; the way the other half lives and what not. Its _interesting_ to think how things have changed. On Old Alternian my blood color would make me _minor_ sea-nobility but on New Earth it is not blood color that designates this but monetary status. I just love comparing and contrasting socio-economic backgrounds. Please. Tell me about your experiences.”

“Experiences…” Was this what Kankri was like in his heyday as a social justice warrior: full of bulky words polite words that meant nothing?

“As someone of the, shall we say, lower portion of society, I’m sure your struggle has given you a greater appreciation for the littler things in life, like family, friends, and food. Though you seem to be slightly better off than those in the Squalor or Aniline End, so I doubt food would be an issue for you. So tell me: do you think you appreciate things more being economically deprived?”

You should hit him. You _really_ want to, but you have a job now; a job you hate and find demeaning, but you need it. Getting into a fight means you’ll have a record and you could lose your opportunity to get a better job. Nektan obviously has enough money to press charges, even for petty reasons. You stare at him; silent and boiling with rage.

“I appreciate dignity more than anything else.” you say calmly, “It must be nice to not have to suck up to people because you need money, or what its like to be lied to by your parents for so long you can’t tell reality from fiction anymore. But if you felt that way, you wouldn’t be such an insulting _fuck._ ”

He doesn’t look surprised. Maybe you’re not the first person who’s told him this? Or he’s mentally cataloguing your response for whatever he’s researching. Vriska returns and makes up some excuse about going to party. Maybe its not a lie; maybe they’re really going to a party but you don’t care. You shut your eyes, grind your teeth, clench your fists. If you don’t look at them, you won’t feel as angry.

“Karkat?” Terezi asks.

When your eyes are closed, you see the faces of the clowns—eyes hooded and faces flushed under the white-black paint.

“Karkat.” Terezi touches your shoulder.

You snap your eyes open. “I’m. Fine.” You force your palm open. Your claws have cut into the fleshy part of your palm. You sigh, “I’m fine.”

Terezi takes your hand and sighs, “Come on, Karkat…”

You know she’s trying to cheer you up but you’re too distracted to enjoy the carnival now. You go to the waterfront boardwalk, walking past the lined up bars and hotels with trumped up prices. Its dark now and fireworks are being shot over the water.

“This was fun.” you say. “We should do this next year.”

“Next year we’ll have grubs though. We can’t stay out as late.” Terezi says.

A group of trolls in blue jackets stand outside of a club blasting loud music. UBK goons. You steer around them, almost bumping into a skinny purpleblood making his way out the club in a hurry.

“At least our kids can enjoy the carnival. Then they can go on their own one day.” you continue.  

“Yeah…Karkat, where’d you get all this money from? You paid for everything and usually you’re the stingiest troll I know.”

“I’m not stingy and I got it from work.”

“You get paid every day instead of every Thursday?”

You swallow nervously. “Yes.”

“Alright.” Another pause. You think you’re off the hook but then, “So, why do you smell like genetic fluids?”

Fuck, you need a stronger soap. “I’m wearing old clothes. I’m still learning how to get all the smells out...”  

She’s looking at you and you hope she can’t smell guilt. You walk further down the waterfront and Terezi opens her mouth.

Then there’s a _bang_ behind you. Not an ear shattering Troll Michael Bay explosion, just a loud pop—like a firework went off too close to your ear. The wood of the waterfront shakes and the air smells like smoke and sulfur. You look behind you and white smoke is pouring out of a club, costumed people running in every direction and screaming. Some run out of the building with fire clinging to them, diving into the water. That’s when you see the fire spreading. People are running scared and those who aren’t running are capturing pic and vid on their iHusks. Black smoke replaces the white and the air becomes more clogging and sooty.

You don’t waste time. Running on pure adrenaline, you pick up Terezi and shove away whoever is in your path. Your instincts are telling you to protect her with your life. You don’t stop running until you’re back at the woods. By now the news, the police, and the fire trucks have arrived on the scene. Terezi and you take the long way back to the trailer park to avoid traffic; knocking down branches and avoiding the panicky tourists rushing back to their hotels. 


	5. smoke on the water

The news blames the explosion and subsequent fire on poor wiring in the bar’s kitchen. The death toll is four so far and the injured numbering fifty.

“What a load of bullshit.” you say. Dave, Jade, and you are lying on Dave’s bed. You all have work in three hours but you’re too wired to think about sleep.

“They treat everyone like idiots,” Jade says, “If you go on Trollumblr, you can see the pictures and vids people took. The smoke that came out _first_ was white. That means something dry was burning like charcoal, wood, or fireworks. The _second_ plume that came out was black, meaning something that had chemicals in it, like oil, glue, paint thinners…”   

“Maybe someone set off fireworks in the kitchen?” Dave asks.  

“There were a lot of people running around with fireworks. “Maybe a kit or kid set it off by accident with sparklers and ran? That’s how those two mobilehives on Neiro burnt down two years ago.”   

Jade shakes her head. “A sparkler has the potential to set fires only in really dry conditions. Those trailers burnt down because it was a really dry summer. Only huge fireworks cause damage like that.”

“Like an M-80?” Dave says.

“Or a bomb.” You say, “Who owned the club?”

“They haven’t said who but it was just a gross dive bar.” Jade says. “Only UBK went there since its their turf.”

“Why do you know that…?” Dave mutters.

Jade shrugs. “A lot people own cars. Sometimes we’d get a group of UBK and they’d talk about hanging out at the waterfront. A lot of those UBK guys aren’t as ‘hard’ as they’d like you to think; just asshole kids trying to be cool.”

“Sounds like entry members,” you say, “Someone was pissed at the UBK so they targeted it.”

“It’s the gang war then.” Dave grumbles, “Things are going to get worse. It makes me want to pack up and go to somewhere else.”

Jade sighs, “This isn’t the first time there’s been a gang war in New Jack City. We were little when the Tex-Mex and Baker Boys were fighting.”

Your only interaction with that war was when the police found a body not too far from your middle school. They cancelled classes that day and sent students home early. You didn’t find out what happened until the next day. “All our kids are just going to have to be as street smart as we were. We don’t know anyone in a gang personally and we’re not affiliated with them, so we should be fine.”

“If you say so…” Dave grumbles.

He’s not comfortable with your kids growing up during a gang war, but no parent should be. Its out of the question. You’d be setting yourselves back at least 50,000 boons and you’re not done with high school yet. The second mobilehive has arrived with stairs but lacks electricity and plumbing.

If you can save up enough money, maybe you can relocate post-graduation. Or that’s what you keep telling yourself. _You need this money because X_ and Xthe reason for what you’re about to do. When you masturbate for another three hundred, Xis that you want to relocate. When he asks you to suck his bulge for another three hundred, X is you want medical insurance. Four hundred to ride his bulge, X is you want a car. Fuck his friend and X is you wanting to give Vriska enough kit support so she’ll forget all about Mr. Asshole Moneybags.

Add the boons. Solve for X. Start by subtracting dignity. Divide by future gain. Multiply by secrecy and humiliation. You spend less time doing your job and being a toy. You leave work limping. You’re not alone. You’ve seen one of your team-mates going down on a clown for cash. You think up a good excuse as you deposit money into the bank. You take out the cash to go buy a better, stronger deodorant. Capone gave you birth control, some questionable looking brand known for its potency and side effects. You take it anyways because you’re too paranoid notto.

Back home, you shower and take your clothes to the Laundromat. You sit in the Laundromat and listen to the dull _clank-clank-clank_ of the machine. You wash your clothes twice because they’re still not clean. You go home. Take another shower. You don’t feel clean but you can’t keep showering without drawing attention to yourself. You wash your hands instead. Dirk is talking to you but its just a loud buzzing noise, the vibrating whine of violin strings. Off key. Off tempo. Erratic.

Dirk touches your shoulder and you jolt away. You’re trying not to breathe too heavily. Its Dirk. Not Capone.  

“Karkat?” he asks.

“Uh. Y-yes?” You almost say _sir_ , but this is Dirk. Not Capone.

“You’ve been washing your hands in the kitchen sink for thirty straight minutes.” Dirk says.

“I was washing dishes.” That was the excuse you practiced in your head. You were washing dishes and then it just turned into you washing your hands for the eighth time today.  

“Looks like you’re just washing your hands.”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Its difficult to judge Dirk’s expression behind the shades; even more challenge when everything is in a haze. “I think you’re…working too hard.”

“Too hard.” You repeat, nodding. “I’m going to go sleep. Its late.”

Its eleven o’ clock. This is incredibly early for you. Jade and Dave are on the couch. Whispering. Mutually agitated. Worried? You don’t know. You wander to the bedroom and shut your eyes. You wrap yourself in your blanket but you don’t go to sleep right away. When you do sleep, you dream of being lost in a foggy world, looking for your voice. You enter a dark room with unseen people sobbing. You feel a violent pain in your stomach seconds before you vomit gold coins. They sparkle, clattering to the floor.

You wake up and its still dark in the mobilehive. Jade and Dave are still asleep.

You go to sit on the couch and stare at whatever is on Wayback. You’re not watching it, just taking up space with the TV on, playing cartoons you’re watching but can’t describe because you’re not really there. Dave walks into the living room and he’s talking but his voice is indistinguishable from the TV noise. He sits next to you and pokes your side. You jolt back to reality  

“Karkat? New Earth to chubby mutantblood.”

Its not Capone. Its Dave. You exhale slowly, nod. “I’m…awake?” Its more a question to yourself, now that your waking life feels as strained as your dreams.

“You’ve been zoned out since yesterday.” Dave says, “Did being that close to the bomb weird you out?”

He thinks you’re shell-shocked from being so close to urban violence when you’re just disgusted with yourself and everything in the world. You shake your head.

“I think you should quit.” Dave says. “You have other skills besides maid.”

“Its fine. The money is good.”

You can barely hear your own mumbling voice. You stand suddenly and go to the bathroom. You stare at your reflection in the mirror. You strain not to wash your hands. You wash your face instead. You want to shower again but you can’t. Too much attention.  

You sit on the back porch. The sky is blue-black and the crickets are loud. You have your iHusk in hand and you’re sending a message.

 

\--carcinoGeneticist[CG] began trolling caligulasAquarium[CA]!--

 

CG: CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING?

CA: kar its four in the mornin

CG: WHEN YOU DID THOSE THINGS FOR MONEY. DID YOU EVER. THINK IT WAS WORTH IT?

CA: …

CA: wwhy are you askin that? that part of my life is ovver noww

CG: I’M JUST WONDERING.

CA: kar im not really comfortable wwith talkin bout it

CG: SO YOU DO REGRET IT.

CA: its complicated kar

CA: yeah i got good money but the shit i did wwas awwful

CA: an it made me feel cheap an my clients wwere assholes wwho just wanted to treat a highblood like shit just cause they could

CA: kar wwhy are you askin me this

CA: are you uh

CA: doin somethin like that

CG: NO, FUCKTARD. I WAS JUST CURIOUS.

CA: wwell you knoww kar i heard you wwere a maid an you hear all the stories about wwhat happens to them

CG: DON’T BE A MORON, ERIDAN. I’M NOTHING LIKE YOU.

CA: kar thats not wwhat im talkin bout

 

\--carcinoGeneticist[CG] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium[CA]--

 

The sky is turning bluer. You feel like a cored apple. You get ready for work because at least you have the excuse for another shower.

* * *

You’re too tired and too out of it to bother pretending to clean. While other maids wipe up spilled drinks and sweep confetti and glittery purple beads into piles, you ascend the stairs while the others. On the second floor, the air is tense. There are few clowns walking around and they’re growling and grumbling about _something_ that sounds like a buzzing cloud of gnats or a very loud theremin. When you see Capone he’s the same lusting asshole. This time around, you’re not alone. You recognize your co-worker’s faces. How long was it before they were roped in?

Things go longer than you intend. You’re shoved into another room with other warmbloods where you take turns showering in stalls. No one is crying in the shower room. No one else cares they’re all naked and smeared with genetic fluids. Its like the gym locker room; the ones that share language are chatting, elbowing, and laughing. You’re the only quiet one. You take your shower and wash your hands three times even though it doesn’t matter. 

Your uniform’s too soiled for you to wear so now you’re in a flimsy skirt. You feel like a mockery of what your job is supposed to be. You leave the showering room and Capone is waiting behind the door. 

“I’m having a little get-together later on.” he says, “How about you stay? You’ll get paid over time of course. What about three hundred an hour?”

Three hundred an hour is good enough for you to maybe quit this job. You can coast with three hundred an hour.

You nod. “I just have to tell my housemates I’ll be late coming home.”

“Take all the time you need.”

You leave the room but the ache inside you isn’t any better. You don’t look at the clowns who pass you in the hall and you care considerably less when they feel you up. What’s the point of protesting them touching you? If they put three hundred boons in your hand and shoved you against the wall, you wouldn’t complain. You enter a room where warmblood trolls are resting on couches and eating sugary snacks. You’re not hungry.

You turn on your iHusk and there’s hundreds of messages from Eridan on Trollian. This is almost as bad as middle school when he hit on everything that moved (including you, Jade, and Rose at one point). You’re about to delete them all when you get another.

 

\--caligulasAquarium[CA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist[CG]!--

 

CA: ah ha fuckin caught you

CG: ERIDAN. STOP FUCKING PESTERING ME. I’M AT WORK.

CA: kar this is serious! youre actin wweird!

CG: OH LIKE YOU SHOULD BE THE ONE TALKING.

CA: kar usually im the one wwho wwont listen but noww youre the one wwhos actin off an evveryone is wworried bout you

CG: OH MY GOD, ERIDAN. I’M FINE. STOP BEING SUCH A GIGANTIC PAIN IN THE ASS AND JUST FUCKING TELL ME.

CA: wwell i wwas thinkin bout wwhat you said earlier bout me street wwalkin

CA: and wwhen i think bout it

CA: i hated it

CA: i hated evvery fuckin minute of it and evverythin bout it but i lovved grandpa a lot and i didnt wwant him to die so i put evverything aside but i spent all my time just tryin to cope wwith what i wwas doin

CA: an in the end it didnt matter cause no matter how much money i got grandpa died anywways an noww im sittin on this money i exchanged my pride for an i cant even stand lookin at it

CA: so

CA: wwhatever youre doin isnt wworth sellin yourself for

CG: ARE YOU DONE YET?

CA: kar

CG: DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW ALL OF THIS? YOUR SITUATION IS DIFFERENT. I’M TRYING TO PROVIDE FOR MY KIDS.

CA: kar you shouldnt do somethin thats makin you feel so incredibly shitty nothins wworth that

CG: I GOTTA GO. DO ME A FAVOR AND TELL DAVE OR JADE THAT I’M GOING TO BE COMING HOME LATE. I’M DOING MORE OVERTIME.

CA: kar talk to me im your brother

CG: WE’RE ONLY HALF BROTHERS.

 

\--carcinoGeneticist[CG] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium[CA]!--  

 

You turn off your iHusk. You leave the room and there’s Capone. Again. He takes your arm and leads you down a narrow hall and up the stairs to another wing. Its silent; you can’t even hear the murmurs of conversation in the rooms. The clowns here are wearing flak jackets, the bulge of a gun hidden underneath. This area is soundproofed and its not the _how_ that’s bothering you but the _why_. Why soundproof only part of the manor? Why the guards?

The next room you enter is small and soundless. There’s lined up plastic bins on a table pushed against the wall, filled with iHusks, huskphones, purses, and small computers. Capone tells you to empty your pockets.

“Why do I have to empty my pockets?” you ask.

“Privacy of course; I don’t want people snapping pictures or taking video.” Capone says, in a matter of fact voice.  

It sounds too risky. “What if I get an emergency call from my family?”

“Do you want your money or not?”

There’s no debate in his voice. You think of Eridan who was doing shit like this for a living. You head to the door, trying to walk past Capone. “…I just remembered. I have to check on my sick mother. They have—”

He grabs your shoulder, “Who is your mother, Vantas? _Kankri_?”

You stare at the taller purpleblood. “What…what are you talking about?” You try to pull away but he’s dug his claws into your shoulder.  

Capone stares at you, impassive at your struggling. “How stupid do you think I am? I know who your whore mother is. You look just like him.” He shoves you towards the door. “If you want to leave that’s fine, but don’t lie to me, slut.”

“I’m not a slut.” you growl. “I did this for my family.”

“A slut by any other name and they swallow genetic fluids all the same. Go on.”

Your shoulder hurts from him digging his claws in. You walk to the door and on the other side you hear a low mutter. You glance over your shoulder but Capone isn’t moving. You don’t have a weapon to fight him and with the clowns in the hall you won’t get far if you run. You turn the knob and open the door. After the long silence, its an assault to your ears to hear the air filled with pathetic wails, pleas, and moans.

Someone grabs your arm and waist, lifting you into the air.

“Hey! Let me go!” You try to get out of their grip, kicking and trying to scratch them with your claws. _“Let me the fuck go!”_

You don’t get to see their face as a black cloth is pulled over your head and someone grabs your arms, grasping you. Someone rifles through your pockets, pulling out your wallet, keys, and iHusk. You keep kicking and screaming as you feel them moving you, walking.   

“Shit, this one’s feisty.”

“More fun to break him in then.” says another.

“Careful. Nobody likes a mutantblood they didn’t bruise.” Capone says.

You hear the door shut. Your captors are talking casually, ignoring your screams and struggles.

“Where’s this one goin’?”

“Doc’s papers say he’s gotta high fertility ratin’ but the boss says he’s going to the Mirthful Wing.”

“Shit; the boss gets the best nook.”

“The boss likes to take the cream of the crop. Plus he’s been wantin’ a new bed warmer.”

“Looks like someone’s finally getting’ the boot.”

They toss you onto a pile of something soft and mildewed. The cloth gets yanked from your face and you look around the room. There are old couches, piles of old blankets, and clothes. The warmbloods here are the maids you worked with, most are nude and bruised. Unseen trolls are moaning or screaming; voices echoing. Your abductors are tall tattooed purplebloods, wearing clown facepaint.

“Get used to it, mutie.” one of them sneers, “This is where you’re stayin’ now. And if you’re lucky maybe the boss’ll keep you instead of shipping you off.”

You bolt to the door but they slam it shut. You bang on it but there’s no handle and its too heavy to break down. The room has no windows and there’s no air ducts. The only light is from the dim lightbulbs on the wall. No one is looking at anyone; hiding their faces, weeping or praying.

“Does anyone…does anyone speak English?”

No one is talking at all. You sit on the other side of a couch, hoping to hide from obvious view when they open the door. You curl into a ball and shut your eyes. Eventually, the doors open, letting in bright hallway light. You peek around the couch. They toss in a yellowblood, bruised and nook dripping with dark genetic fluids. The purpleblood guard sees you.

“Your turn, fresh meat.”

 


End file.
